


he is water; powerful and soft

by Sparroet



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 2017coldflashweekb, AU, Coldflashweek2017B, M/M, barry is calypso
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 13:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12299898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparroet/pseuds/Sparroet
Summary: Barry is Calypso, at least their newest face. Leonard Snart is not your traditional shipwrecked hero (or a hero at all)





	he is water; powerful and soft

When Leonard awoke, it was to the sound of waves crashing on a white sand beach. He fell off a damn boat, in a police chase near Coast City. A police chase on a sporty Scarab he’d actually liked and his dumb ass had capsized, and Lisa was going to kill him. Supposing he ever made it back. It took a minute to process, but Leonard did not let his hopes get up; it was just as likely he’d found a shoal as real, livable land. What was not ambiguous was the sound of footsteps spraying sand, a shadow falling over his face, and a soft, musical voice, 

“Oh dear, how long have you been here?”

He was vaguely aware of being lifted, leaning on someone’s shoulder, who must have been his height or taller, and damn were they lucky their voice was beautiful, because otherwise Len would have strangled them for their needless babbling.

“-haven’t seen any travelers here in years, I was worried you people didn’t travel by sea any more.”

Leonard rolls his head, taking in the island around him for the first time. It’s picturesque - it must be nearly six square miles, because he can see water on both sides, but there’s a clear stream cutting through the center. Everything’s green, and he can see trees groaning under the weight of ripe fruits, birds and insects feasting on them. By some miracle he’s not only found an island, he’s found another human who seems to live here.

And then his eyes catch on his saviour and -  _ oh _ . He’s a boyish young man with smooth skin and lean muscles and brown hair that glows copper in the sunlight. His eyes are hazel, deep and bright, and little pools of green light are dancing in them, like nothing Len’s ever seen. He’s beautiful, and Len wonders briefly if he’s gone delirious, which would makes sense, he hasn’t eaten or drank in what, two? Three days?

“Where am I?” Len groans out, and the boy stops his blathering, a worried look crossing his face.

“Ogygia,” He answers slowly, carefully, like that name is something poisonous, “Do you know where that is?”

Len wrack his brain, but he’s delirious and thirsty and in pain and he comes up blank, “No. Don’t matter now. Need water.”

“Oh, yea,” He seems to brighten up a bit, “The stream here is brackish, but I keep it fresh. You can drink and bathe there, and I’ll bring you something to wear.”

Len doesn’t understand how he could “keep it fresh”, but again: he’s delirious and probably just not getting the whole picture, “Sure. Sounds peachy, kid.”

The kid laughs, a pure and tinkling sound and christ, Len needs water, because he should be suffering some eternal misery over the loss of his boat, means of communication, and his recent payout, not eyeballing the first person he sees. He leads him to a meander in the stream, where it pools into something calm and waist deep. True to his saviour’s word, the water is fresh, and Leonard must look like an animal, crawling to it on his hands and knees and desperately gulping it down.

“Well,” Leonard sits up abruptly, spinning to look at the kid, “You should bathe. I’ll get you something clean to wear, uh, I promise not to look if that makes you, I, well-”

And Leonard really does not care who sees him naked at this point because he’s a dead man but the kid is red and sputtering because Len started stripping while he was talking, desperate to wash off the salt, “Oh, sorry kid. Leonard Snart. Capsized, all that. You are?”

He hesitates, “Barry,” he sighs, like it pains him, “I know. The only people who ever visit here are always struck with disaster. I’m sorry for your loss, Leonard. I will do everything in my power to help you back on your way.”

Barry doesn’t look back after that, presumably run off to get something for Len, who nearly balks at those words. For one, Barry implied people got shipwrecked here a lot, implied he was used to saving nearly drowned souls and sending them on their way, and he’d also been wistful - like the only people he ever sees are those he saves. It’s not that Leonard means to be paranoid, but he’s too used to watching his back, protecting his…right, well, he can’t dwell on that, because he needs to make sure Lisa and Mick are okay and he can even get back to them. 

Barry returns shortly, averting his gaze from Leonard, setting down a Greek styled blue robe with ornate gold hemming. It’s expensive, the thief in Len recognizes immediately, and outdated as all hell. But Barry sports a similar style of dress, and jewelry clinks on his wrists, so he’ll take it. Maybe it’s a cultural thing?

Barry doesn’t watch Leonard dress, his face is a little red, and Len can see him fiddling with the wicker on a basket of mangoes he’s brought along with him. Len sits next to him, uncomfortable as he is seating this expensive fabric on the ground.

“Where did you say we are again?”

“Ogygia,” Barry doesn’t look up.

“And where the hell is that?” Len’s a pretty talented navigator, and he’s lived on this section of the pacific coast for years, and never heard of Ogygia.

Barry blinks up at him, expression a little off,”Ogygia is nowhere. Leonard, have you ever heard of Calypso?”

Barry isn’t making any sense right now, but he’s cutting up a few green mangoes and salting them, so Len will indulge him, because he’s starving, “The sea witch? Like Pirates in the Caribbean?”

Barry’s whole face wrinkles, “ _ What?  _ No, like the nymph. Odysseus ring a bell?”

“Greek,” Len pops the k, “Explains the clothing. But not what a Greek isle is doing off the coast of California.” 

“California? Is that a new country? What year is it?”

Len blinks owlishly at him, “Cali? Hollywood? San Fran? Los Angeles? None of this means anything to you?”

“No,” Barry admits sheepishly, “I can’t leave Ogygia and I’ve no way of learning about the outside world.”

Len groans, “You saying we’re stuck here? No way off?”

Barry smiles sadly, “You can leave at any time. I can’t. I am Calypso, though centuries have passed and I’ve gone by many names. Barry is the one, the face, I chose for myself. I-No one’s come here in awhile. I was beginning to think I was free.”

Len stares at him incredulously, before he busts out laughing, “You expect me to believe you’re a goddess from greek myths? I must’ve hit my head harder than I thought.”

Barry narrows his eyes, “No dumbass, I’m a nymph,” he hums, and water flies up from the river into his palm in a sphere, a single minnow swimming, unaffected; in the center. Len stops laughing abruptly, “Oh.”

Barry smiles genuinely for the first time since Len got here, “I guess the outside world’s changed a lot?”

Len fiddles with the mango in his palm absently, “Yeah. Listen, I know you’ve got a curse from the gods and all but my sister-”

“I know,” Barry says softly, the sadness returning to his eyes, “They never send anyone who can stay. I can provide you a ship and supplies, though, I’m guessing wooden sailboats are outdated now?”

“Just a tad,” Len grins, “But they’re worth a lot as collectibles for rich folks. Kind of you.”

Barry sighs, then places the minnow gently back in the stream,”I’ll begin preparing. The sooner you leave the better for both of us.”

“I’ll come back one day,” Len blurts out, rather unlike himself.

Barry stands, refusing to look at Len, “You can’t. Mortals can only visit once a lifetime. Go and find your sister.”

\---

Barry’s home is small and underneath a waterfall, lit in cool blues and punctuated by the gentle noise of water hitting the rocks. For being carved out of stone, it feels very homey, and Leonard is offered his own room with a plush maroon couch brimming with golden pillows, royal gold curtains swaying in a gentle breeze from a window with an ocean view. There isn’t much else in the way of furniture, but Barry explains he probably won’t need to stay for more than two or three days. The building of the ship will only take a day, and Leonard should rest, and on the second day he can provide any supplies Leonard might need. The third morning, Leonard will be ready to leave. 

Barry barely speaks to him the whole first day, but to be fair, he is very preoccupied creating a polished, wooden sailboat of such a high craftsmanship it makes Len’s mouth water wondering on the monetary value. Its magical - both literally and figuratively, watching Barry communicate with the ocean seamlessly, the waves bring him fine planks of wood, bend them to fit the shape of the hull, and glue them firmly in place with some unexplained force, the water brimming with a strange energy in the same way his eyes pulsed. Len pulls him from his work at midday, the boat already half complete. 

“You should eat,” Len says rather dumbly, “I can’t expect you to put everything on hold for me, can I?”

Barry gives him a half assed little smile, “That’s okay, nymphs don’t need to eat.”

Len whistles loudly, “Well, I gotta, and I’d love to hear more about what a spunky young goddess like yourself can and can’t do.”

“Nymph!” Barry yells, but he’s quit his work, which is a good a sign as any. Barry joins him, cross legged on a rock ledge besides him, “Glad you’re feeling better, at least.”

“You don’t seem to be doing that well,” Len intones.

“Well, forgive me if I’m not too thrilled to be eternally trapped on an island with a love interest passing me by every few centuries only to always leave me alone and with no way out.”

“Love interest?” Len raises an eyebrow.

“A part of the curse, I assure you,” Barry huffs, “It’s why I don’t like getting too close to my guests. Nothing personal.”

“Okay, but imagining you don’t have a curse for a second - would I still be your type?”

Barry is beet red at this point, and he stands indignantly, “I’m just trying to make this as painless for the both of us and send you home to your sister. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a ship to build.”

He does finish well before nightfall, and the thing is beautiful, and will definitely fetch a pretty penny stateside. Enough to buy Len three brand new Scarabs. He tries to sidle up to Barry on the back to his home.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.”

“M-hm.”

“I mean it,” Len holds out a hand to touch Barry’s shoulder awkwardly, “I just thought some teasing would make you feel a bit better. I don’t mean to antagonize. After all, you’re doing a lot for a total stranger.”

Barry blinks at him, “Thanks, I guess.”

\---

The second day Barry does let Len help him, and the work of packing the boat with supplies and setting it in the ocean is fast; Leonard may be a thief, but he isn’t greedy, especially when all this was fabricated out of the goodness of Barry’s heart. So he makes a point to gather up the nectar and this strange jello-like substance that must be ambrosia, because he knows enough about Greek myths to figure Barry probably doesn’t eat human food. He finds the wicker basket Barry had his first day here, and packs it with nectar and ambrosia and the meat and cheese and grape platters he finds left out around the cave (it irks him a bit they can be left out all day and never rot or become infested by insects, but such is the life of a god). Finally, he takes a blanket from his room, and sets about making a proper picnic for himself and one miserable nymph. Barry does stop moping for long enough to stare intently at Len, who is spreading the expensive wool blanket over wet sand, and growl like he’s been personally offended.

“What are you doing?”

Leonard is greatly pleased to have Barry’s full attention for once, “You see, my darling goddess, us mere mortals need to eat.”

“Nymph,” Barry corrects, “But why do you need to do it out here? On the sand?”

“What can I say,” Len grins, “I enjoy the scenery.”

“You want something,” It’s not a question, it's a statement.

“Eat,” Len smiles wide, “I insist. You’ve done so much for me for nothing in return. The least I can do is offer a little company. Tell me about yourself.”

Barry looks at him sadly, but he does sit down, and reaches for the ambrosia restlessly, “I’ve lived here most of my life, alone, falling in love with total strangers who always have to leave. What’s there to tell?”

“I guess,” Len hums, “They don’t really talk about the Greeks anymore. I hardly know anything about your ah, family?”

Barry’s eyes fall back down to his lap, “Dead. Or I suppose I’m a bastard child on my mother’s half. She and Atlas, my dad, they only ever had me, and I - I loved my dad with all my heart. So I blindly followed him when he said the gods needed to be put down and supported him and told him he was deserving of-I killed him. We lost horribly and I was placed here for all eternity and Atlas was asked to hold up the sky and he-he just gave up, Leonard. He had nothing left to live for. I didn’t matter that much, in the end, I guess.”

Barry is crying very freely now, weariness written all over his body, and though Len is not a very touchy person, he feels compelled to wrap an arm around Barry, and let him rest his head on Len’s shoulder.

“Barry...I am human, so I can’t exactly empathize, but I can say there was nothing wrong with that choice. Death is preferable to suffering eternally, I’d think. But you don’t share that sentiment?”

“I do,” Barry whispers, “But this place won’t let me go. I’ve tried so many times. I never eat, I never sleep, I tear out my own heart and still I wake up the next day, alone. I deserve this.”

“Whatever makes you say that?”

“I could have stopped him, Leonard,” and Len thinks perhaps this is the thought that’s been chasing Barry for a thousand years, far more than any of his failed romances, “I could have convinced him not to. But I idolized him so much I was blind and I started the worst war this planet has ever seen.”

Lenn bit his bottom lip softly, “Barry, if you could leave here, what would you want?”

Barry laughs bitterly, “Don’t torture me with impossibilities.”

But still, Len persists, “Would you want to go, or would you you want to live a little first?”

“I don’t know,” he says it honestly, voice tiny against the vastness of the ocean before them, “I used to think nothing of men. All their lives were so tiny and insignificant. Now I think they’re the only ones with any meaning.”

Len doesn’t really know what to say, so he says nothing, just holds Barry and watches the waves roll in and out.

\---

It’s nearly sundown, and they’ve been sitting here very peacefully, and very quietly, for a long time now. This is very fine by Len, who has been using that time to come up with what is possibly his worst plan yet, but damn if Len isn’t still a master thief who will get what he wants and the stakes be damned.

Len purses his lips together lightly, “Hey Barry,” he starts cautiously, “Could you make something to help me sleep? Don’t know how many days I’ll be at sea.”

“Of course,” Barry offers the same loose pitiful smile he’s been giving Len the past three days, “Anything you need.”

A trickle of water flows into his hand, spitting out a little vial of lavender liquid, “It will never empty,” Barry states, “Drink the whole thing for eight hours uninterrupted.”

“Perfect,” Len grins now, “Just what I needed.”

He returns the vial to the wicker basket, careful not to let Barry see him dump the entire thing in the jar of nectar he’s brought along.

He then procures both the nectar and a bottle of wine for himself, “I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning, I think. I propose a toast.”

Barry doesn’t really look like he has much to celebrate, but he steals the nectar from Len anyhow, “Thanks,” he mumbles, “Could use it.”

Halfway through his nectar, Barry passes out cold.

\---

Barry wakes up and is decisively not on Ogygia. He’s on a boat. On the open sea, no land in sight. And his left wrist is tied to the railing which, in Barry’s opinion, is utterly useless as far as restricting him, he can still use his right, and regardless, they’re surrounded by water right now. None of this makes any sense - unless there was some great and terrible downfall of the gods or by some miracle they even remembered he existed - they likely didn’t. 

“Nice of you to rejoin the land of the living, Barry.” Len pops into view on his left, where Barry assumes he was manning the sail, “So sorry to pop this on you, but you understand, I had to cover all my bases.”

“What bases?” Barry pulls himself up to a sitting position, holding his wrist out straight for Len to cut the rope, “Kidnapping me and somehow defying all the gods in one go?”

“Precisely,” Len smirks triumphantly, “Kidnapping. Not leaving. I couldn’t exactly get your permission or it wouldn’t be authentic. I did get the sense you weren’t keen on the rest of your life trapped on that rock.”

Barry stares up at him in shock, then abruptly bursts out laughing, “You’re unbelievable! And frankly, a genius. You’ve outsmarted Zeus himself!”

“Well,” Len preens, “I am a career criminal.”

Barry blinks, “Sorry, what?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Len’s grin is lazy and wide, “You’re used to hero types. Don’t worry your pretty little head, Barry, I haven’t been caught in years.”

“It’s not so much your freedom as it is-”

“My moral compass? Hate to break it to you Barry, but just getting you papers is gonna make you a felon. People won't exactly believe the 3000 year old nymph story. Oh, speaking of, you’ll need to figure out something with your age, a legal name, birthdate, all that.”

“Oh you’re-you want me to stay with you?”

Len sits down on the deck heavily, leaning against the guardrail, “If you’d like to. I thought you could use a little help adjusting to the new millenia.” 

“I-I can be anyone you want, you know,” Barry twiddles his thumbs, head bent down, “If-if you want a woman, or-”

“Barry,” Len wraps his arms around Barry’s shoulder lightly, pressing his cheek into Barry’s,”I want you to be yourself. You deserve this.”

Barry smiles wide, tears in the corner of his eyes “Thank you.”


End file.
